Wednesday, July 11, 2012

In my last post, I discussed Batman’s mental health and wanted to “get out of the
way” some obvious “issues” that Batman seems to have. I brought up Batman’s
lapse in judgment in taking a
minor, Dick Grayson, as a ward and sidekick. I begin this post by continuing
the discussion of Batman’s lapses in judgment in taking on additional minors as
sidekicks.

Further lapses in judgment
came with his taking on each subsequent Robin. In Jason Todd’s case, Wayne
struggled against the lesser of two evils; Todd had been trying to steal the
Batmobile’s hubcaps and Wayne felt that if Todd weren’t taken in hand and
shaped to use his talents for good then Todd would end up on the wrong side of the
law.

Other
Robins (Tim Drake and Stephanie Brown) have had that role because they asked
Batman to allow them to be Robin. (They were young and the idea of being Robin
is exciting and cool, as well as providing a great purpose to their lives.)
It’s up to the adult—to Batman—to exercise good judgment, which he didn’t. It
may have been bad judgment for him to accede to their wish and continue to
allow them to be in the role, but that doesn’t mean Batman has a mental
disorder: Bad judgment does not necessarily indicate a psychiatric disorder.

Batman didn’t have
anything to do with the most recent Robin—Damian Wayne—assuming that role.
Wayne didn’t even know that he had a son until presented with his pre-teen son
Damian.[1]
Damian’s ascension to the role of Robin occurred during a period of Wayne’s
extended absence from Gotham City[2],
when the adult Dick Grayson stepped into the role of Batman; it was Grayson who
allowed Damian to become Robin. Once Bruce Wayne returned, however, he allowed
his son to continue in that role.[3]
Given that Damian Wayne had been trained at a young age to kill—by the
nefarious League of Assassins—it is (somewhat) understandable that Wayne would
want to try to remold Damian to use his talents for good, just as Wayne
attempted to do with Jason Todd.

Substance Abuse: Pain Relief

Batman’s
crime-fighting activities can leave his body battered, bruised, or broken.
Alfred not only acts as butler to Bruce Wayne and concierge to Batman, he also
acts as doctor and nurse to the Caped Crusader—stitching wounds, setting broken
bones, even performing some surgical procedures. Batman’s body suffers.

Does Batman take pain
medication to help him keep going, and if so, is he “addicted”—does he have a
substance abuse problem? Stories don’t often indicate that Batman takes
anything to dull his pain, probably because if he did he’d be slowed down and
his senses dulled—and make him more likely to get really hurt by a criminal. So it’s not likely that he
self-medicates. Most of the time that he’s had a significant injury he seems to
do what some people with chronic pain have learned to do: accept the pain,
compartmentalize it, and live life anyway.

All That Money

Wayne
is an incredibly smart man who has found a way to make his money grow, and then
to divert money to fund his activities as Batman. I don’t see anything about
his spending habits that indicates signs of a mental illness. It would be a
warning sign if he went on spending sprees and he often purchased unneeded
items—this could possibly indicate manic episodes of bipolar disorder.[4]
Or if Bruce spent large sums of money to protect himself against an unknown
enemy that no one else had reason to believe posed a threat—this could indicate
that Wayne might be suffering from paranoia. But that’s not the case. The money
he spends to support his activities as Batman, phenomenal though they may be,
is well spent to prepare him to fight Gotham City’s criminals.

What Personal Life?

Bruce
Wayne doesn’t have much of a personal life. When he’s not busy as Batman (in or
out of the cowl), he’s overseeing the Wayne Foundation (his philanthropic
organization) or Wayne Enterprises (formerly called WayneCorp, the company he
owns and from which his wealth derives). Moreover, he must devote some time to
the parties of the rich and famous (including his own) to keep up his
billionaire-playboy façade. He’s juggling multiple full-time jobs. Yes, he
tends not to have relationships with people outside of his work life, but the
same can be said for many of us—particularly if we spend many hours at work,
side by side with our colleagues. Plus, given the secret of the Batman part of
his life, it’s hard to let other people in. If and when he does tell a woman
he’s romantically involved with about his secret life, she’s likely to get
twisted up when he goes to work each night.

This is what happened with
Silver St. Cloud; she is a wealthy and sharp woman in Bruce’s circle who
deduced that Bruce Wayne is also Batman. Although they love each other, after
she witnessed the Caped Crusader fight the Joker she realized that she couldn’t
be in a romantic relationship because of the stress of worrying whether he’ll
come home each night.[5] One appeal
of Catwoman as a romantic partner is that there’s less that Wayne has to keep
from her (except his Wayne identity in some stories), and she truly understands
who he is as Batman. He is fully known.

Bruce
is also fully known by his butler/sidekick Alfred. Ditto with any of the five
Robins. Alfred and each Robin know about Bruce’s dual identities, about his
history and vulnerabilities, and about his mission. Wayne is thus truly and
fully known and accepted by more people than most of us can claim.[6]

[4]One could argue that
among the wealthy, most purchases are “unneeded”: another house or apartment,
another sports car, another work of art, clothes for a makeover. Such spending
sprees might indicate mania if they were different from the person’s usual
behavior, and occurred along with other symptoms of mania.

[5]The seminal story of
Silver and Bruce, written by Steve Englehart in 1977-1978, is in Detective
Comics #469-476, 478, 479, and
also collected in the bound volume Batman:
Strange Apparitions.

[6]As I have noted in
other writings, one element of his personal life that I find potentially
psychologically interestingis his
relationship with Alfred Pennyworth, his butler. In Wayne’s youth, Alfred
functioned as a de facto guardian, yet during Wayne’s adulthood, Alfred’s role
is that of assistant: he takes orders from Wayne, but their familiarity and
long history allows Alfred to “reprimand” Wayne occasionally. The closest
analogies I can think of is the relationship between an adult and his or her
nanny from childhood, or an executive and his or her coach.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

What’s the matter with
Batman? There must be something wrong with him, right? After all, he does
things most of us wouldn’t do in a million years: He dresses up in a bat
costume and puts his life on the line night after night, without any official
status. He’s a billionaire, yet he dedicates a significant portion of his
personal wealth to fund his “hobby” of being a crime fighter. He has no real
personal life to speak of—at least not one that isn’t directly connected to his
work as Batman. (Note, though, that the same can be said of many of us!) He
broods, he can be obsessive in his preparations to tangle with criminals, and
the fact that he witnessed the murder of his parents must have left a scar.
These facets of his life are certainly unusual, but the question I investigate
in this book is whether these issues—along with various problems and
“symptoms”—place Batman in the “abnormal” range from a mental health
perspective. If so, just how bad is his problem (or problems)?

In fact, a fair number of
people in our world and in Batman’s world have wondered whether something is
wrong with him. I sometimes speak at comic conventions and people are
fascinated by the question of whether there is something clinically wrong with
Batman. Batman is “different” from other people in the world he inhabits, and
people wonder about where the line is that separates “different-normal” from
“different-abnormal.” Although people in our world may not be different in the
ways that Batman is (for instance, very, very few of them dress up as a giant
bat except at Halloween or comic conventions), his stories can lead us to think
about what it takes to be considered “abnormal”—whether he is more than simply
different, but rather has a mental illness.

After
all, at first glance dressing up like a bat in public (or even in private)
would seem to suggest a significant problem. Dr. Chase Meridian, the psychologist in the film Batman Forever (1995), is one such
person. She remarks “Well, let's just say that I could write a hell of a paper on a grown man
who dresses like a flying rodent.”

Let me state clearly at the outset that I’m going
to talk about Batman as if he were a real person. You and I both know that he’s
a fictitious character, but part of what makes him such a compelling character
is thinking about what it would be like if he did exist, if he were real. So in my discussions about him I’m not
generally going to talk about why writers might have written particular
stories, added specific characters, or how the Comics Code Authority guidelines
might have affected his character, other characters, or the stories. I’m going
to take him as he is and try to understand him, contradictions and all.

Part of my goal is to determine whether Batman’s
actions and problems reach the level necessary to be diagnosed with any of the
disorders in the “psychiatric diagnostic bible” at the time of this writing: The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual,
Fourth Edition-Text Revision, abbreviated as DSM-IV-TR.[1]
The specific disorders that seem to be the most likely candidates include:

Dissociative Identity Disorder

Depression

Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder

Posttraumatic Stress Disorder

Antisocial Personality Disorder

My evaluation of Batman is intended both to
entertain and to educate. People familiar with Batman stories may find my views
on the Caped Crusader’s mental state interesting and illuminating. My hope is
that you will also learn something about psychology in the process—something
that can be of use to you as you think about yourself or other people.

Clinical Evaluation: A Continual Process

When
mental health clinicians are asked to make a clinical evaluation of someone,
they do so by talking to the person being evaluated, observing that person and,
in some cases, obtaining information from others—family members, referring
doctors, the court, or law enforcement agencies if they are involved. In some
cases, psychological or medical testing is done to help clarify a question
about the person’s functioning, such as whether he or she has delusions
(entrenched beliefs that are not based on reality) or whether the person’s
cognitive functioning is impaired in some way.

I
couldn’t interview Batman directly (folks dressed as Batman at comic
conventions don’t count), so how did I evaluate him? My clinical impressions
and assessment of Batman are based on the stories that I’ve read or seen. Just
like any mental health clinician, then, my conclusions are based on what I observe
and what has been reported to me of the person.

Making
my task even more challenging is the sheer number of stories about him: In his
many decades of existence, Batman has been featured in an almost countless
number of stories in comic books, films, television shows (including cartoon
shows), novels, and graphic novels. He’s been featured working solo, with
various members of his bat-family (e.g., Robin, Nightwing,[2]
Batgirl), and in team-ups with other superheroes, such as Superman. I have not
read or seen every story that features Batman. Not even close. So when you read
this book, you might find that you disagree with me, based on Batman stories
that you know but I've not encountered. Just as mental health clinicians
sometimes revise their diagnoses and understanding of a patient when additional
information points to symptoms or strengths of which they were previously
unaware, I might well revise my conclusions if I knew all of the salient
stories.

If you disagree with my conclusions because you
know of specific stories that support different conclusions than the ones I
reach, please let me know; please send to me the name of the specific story, a
brief summary of it, and if possible, the relevant dialogue, narration, or
artwork. You can send that information to me at WhatsTheMatterWithBatman@gmail.com. If and when there
is enough information to warrant changing my diagnoses and overall evaluation,
I’ll revise this book in a second edition, credit you in the revised
acknowledgement section, and keep you posted.

Let’s Get Some
Issues Out Of the Way

There
are a few aspects of Batman’s life that I’d like to address right off the bat
(no pun intended): that he dresses up like a bat, that he takes teenage boys as
his wards and sidekicks, whether he
has a substance abuse problem, that he devotes so much money to his life as
Batman, and that he has no real personal life. Let’s see whether any of these
things indicate that something is really wrong with Batman.

Dressing Up

He dresses
up like a bat. I grant that it is weird, but the issue at hand is whether it’s
more than that—whether it’s a sign of mental illness. My answer is that in
Batman’s case it is not, for several reasons. First, Bruce Wayne didn’t decide
to walk—or swoop—around the streets of Gotham in a bat costume because he
actually thought he was a bat. Wayne started dressing as Batman because he had
a specific purpose in mind: to disguise his identity when he fought criminals.
Sounds like a good idea to me, and one that is used by military personnel when
necessary (though not the bat part). Wayne also wanted his disguise to serve
another function: to evoke fear in criminals. As Wayne noted to himself in
Batman’s origin story in 1939: “Criminals are a superstitious cowardly lot…
so my disguise must be able to strike terror into their hearts. I must be a
creature of the night, black, terrible..."[3] Thus, Wayne intentionally set out to wear a
disguise that did more than hide his identity. In this sense, his choice of
disguise—of costume—was effective because it met his objectives. Yes, we can
argue whether a snake costume would have been more effective, but that would
have been harder to squeeze into.

Additionally, Batman’s use
of his attire is analogous to police officers wearing their uniform, or butlers
wearing their uniform, when on duty. Uniforms (of which his costume is one)
signal what the wearer’s role is. If you see someone in a police uniform, you
expect certain kinds of behavior: If the officer pulls a gun and points it at
someone running, it will likely mean something different to you then if the
gun-holder wasn’t wearing that uniform. The uniform immediately conveys context
to understand the wearer’s behavior.

In a sense, dressing as a
bat is akin to dressing as a Ninja or a Navy Seal: the color—black—enables him
to hide in the shadows until he wants to emerge, the bats’ wings enable him to
glide short distances, and the overall appearance achieves its ends. It’s
scary. His willingness to wear this unusual costume (for most of Batman’s
existence, he wore tights on his legs with “underwear” on the outside, which
most people find weird) speaks to his dedication to his mission and how
important he thinks the costume is. And, as we see, it is.

In what cases might
Wayne’s costume be considered a possible indication of mental illness? If Wayne
actually believed that he was a bat (that is, if he had delusions), it would
certainly suggest a mental illness such as schizophrenia or delusional
disorder. If Wayne wore his batsuit for sexual excitement, it might indicate a
sexual fetish. Another red flag would arise if Wayne thought he was a different
person—a different identity—when he dressed as Batman; if he did, he might be
suffering from dissociative identity disorder, discussed in the next chapter.
(On a related note, in the book I refer to “Batman” and “Bruce Wayne” somewhat
interchangeably, but I typically I refer to him as “Batman” when he’s fighting
crime or in other ways functioning in his role as the Caped Crusader. I’m more
likely to refer to him was “Wayne” when discussing his pre-Batman days or his
life as a “regular man” rather than a crime-fighter.)

Why Wards: Taking Youngsters Under His Bat-Wing

Batman has taken five youngsters under his wing to
become Robin: Dick Grayson (the original Robin, who as an adult went on to become
Nightwing), Jason Todd (who later took the name the Red Hood), Tim Drake (who
as an adult went on to become Red Robin), Stephanie Brown (who later became the
fifth Batgirl), and Damian Wayne (Bruce’s previously unknown son, whose mother
is Talia al Ghul—she is the daughter of Ra’s al Ghul). It’s a curious thing for
a romantically unattached man with a dangerous lifestyle to assume legal
responsibility for a young teen—as he did with Dick Grayson. Also curious is
why he trains and accepts minors as sidekicks in a dangerous profession. Might
this be an indication of mental illness on Wayne’s part?

To answer that question, we need to understand Wayne’s motives. I
think his motives were generative.[4]
In this context, the term generative
comes from Erik Erikson’s term generativity,
which refers to a desire to guide and nurture the next generation.[5]
People can be generative in a variety of ways: through formal or informal
mentoring at work, creating objects for others to use, or helping to rear
children. When Wayne first took in Dick Grayson, I believe he was acting on
generative impulses. Grayson’s family was part of a circus act and Dick had
witnessed his parents’ murders, mirroring Bruce Wayne’s witnessing his own
parents’ murders. Wayne took in Grayson to help someone in pain from growing up
alone and isolated. He gave Grayson the gift of a mentor that he himself did
not have.

Okay so far, but why put a
child in danger by taking him to skirmishes with criminals? That’s a harder
question to answer. Initially when Robin first appeared on the scene in 1940,[6]
the world was a more innocent place and criminals were much less willing to
harm law enforcement officers and children. Nonetheless, exposing Dick to
danger was a clear lapse in judgment on Wayne’s part. A very clear lapse. Wayne
might have wanted to help buffer Grayson’s loss, but there were many ways he
could have done that without putting the youngster directly in harm’s way as
they battled criminals. For instance, he could have used Grayson as an
assistant who stayed in the Batcave, much as Alfred does, and as does the
character Oracle, who helps Batman through her work at her command center.[7]

Look for
Part 2 about Batman’s mental health next week.

Copyright 2012 by Robin S. Rosenberg

[1]For brevity’s sake, in
the rest of the book I’ll refer to it simply as DSM-IV. It was published by the
American Psychiatric Association in 2000.

[2]Nightwing is the
codename for adult crimefighter Dick Grayson; when Dick was younger, he was the
first Robin, Batman’s sidekick. Nightwing is primarily based in Blüdhaven but
comes back to Gotham City from time to time to help Batman.

[4]Although some people
have read sexual motives into Wayne’s relationship with Dick Grayson (notably
Fredric Wertham in the 1950s), I don’t think their relationship had sexual
overtones and writers of Batman stories have stated that they wrote Wayne as a
heterosexual character without a sexual attraction to Grayson. Their
relationship was and is more like that of father and son.

[5]According to Erik
Erickson, generativity is a key challenge to the seventh stage of development
and stands in contrast to its opposing tendency of stagnation, a
self-centeredness in which the individual doesn’t better society in some way.
His book on development is Erikson,
Erik H. (1959). Identity and the Life
Cycle. New York: International Universities Press.

[7]Oracle is Barbara
Gordon’s codename; Barbara Gordon had originally been Batgirl, but after the
Joker shot her at her home she was left without the use of her legs and is
wheelchair bound. (Note: The relaunch of the DC Universe in 2011 had Barbara
Gordon with full use of her legs and in the role of Batgirl.)